


The Spirit of Nostalgia

by pigeonking



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 04:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18336359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonking/pseuds/pigeonking
Summary: I was invited to write this story by a fanzine, but they've given me the go ahead to share it here too.I've been a fan of the Ghostbusters since my childhood, but none of my fan fics from then have survived. This is an entirely new one and I hope you all will like it...





	The Spirit of Nostalgia

“Ah, man, can you believe it?” Winston Zeddmore exclaimed from behind his newspaper which he was reading just to pass the time during a particularly quiet period at the Ghostbusters Headquarters.

“Believe what, Winston?” asked his friend and colleague, Ray Stantz, looking up from the TV remote that he was trying to fix after Slimer had gunked it up with his ectoplasm for the umpteenth time.

“They’re remaking my favourite TV show, _Professor Wotz_. I used to love that show when I was a kid, but how can they remake it without the main star, Billy Thornton? It’s just not gonna be the same!” Winston explained.

“I think I remember catching a few episodes of that myself when I was a kid too!” Ray enthused. “It was amazing, some of the weird storylines that they’d come up with.”

“Yeah!” Winston agreed, and he set the newspaper aside as he warmed to the subject, “Some of the special effects were a bit cheesy, but that was part of its charm. They weren’t afraid to try new things even if they didn’t quite have the budget for it.”

“Billy Thornton died a couple of years ago, though, didn’t he?” Ray said sadly.

“That’s right. Man, I can’t believe they’d even consider trying to remake the show without him. It just won’t be the same.” Winston lamented.

“I don’t know, Winston.” Ray disagreed, “The show always was pretty inventive. Maybe we should wait and see what they do with it before we dismiss it out of hand.”

“What’re you two guys talkin’ about?” Peter Venkman drawled as he strolled into the common room with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in one hand.

“Oh, hi, Pete!” Winston greeted him, “I was just telling Ray about the plans to bring back my favourite TV show from my childhood.”

“Hey, that’s great, Winston.” Peter replied, his hand holding the sandwich drooped to his side casually and he was blissfully unaware of the gelatinous green shape that emerged slowly through the floor boards beneath him. (“Ooh, yum, yum!”) “I wish they’d bring back my favourite TV show, _Geez, Louise!_. I cried myself to sleep for weeks when they cancelled it!”

A sticky sensation on his hand reminded him of his sandwich ( _jelly must be leaking out_ ) and he raised it to take a bite… only to stop half-way to his mouth when he saw that the hand was empty and covered in a repulsive, semi-translucent green gunk.

“SSSSLIIIIIMMMEEERRRR!!!” he roared angrily and took off out of the room in search of the elusive ghost.

It was at that moment that the alarm bell announced that they had a new job to attend to.

Ray and Winston sprang from their seats and raced to the fireman poles. Peter had also abandoned his vendetta against Slimer and was already half-way down the pole when they arrived.

By the time they’d both slid down into the garage where Ecto-1 was parked, their colleague Egon Spengler was already waiting for them, suited up in his cyan overalls. Peter was pulling on his own chocolate brown uniform.

“What’ve you got for us this time, Janine?” he called over to their feisty red-headed receptionist.

“There’s a troublesome spirit running riot at the old NBC TV studios. Apparently they’re willing to pay double the asking price for a quick turnaround.” Janine informed them.

“That’s a bit brave.” Peter smirked, “They don’t even know what our asking price is yet. Sounds like my kinda job! Let’s go!”

Once the four Ghostbusters were suited up in their jumpsuits they all piled into Ecto-1, they’re customised 1959 Cadillac hearse/ambulance, Winston taking his usual spot in the driver’s seat, and screeched out through the double doors of their fire station headquarters, sirens blaring.

“NBC, huh?” Ray mused out loud. “Isn’t that the same studios that produce _Professor Wotz_?”

“It certainly is.” Winston confirmed. “Bit of a coincidence that we’re being called out there when we were only talking about it, just now.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences.” Egon frowned.

The other Ghostbusters silently agreed.

 

Ecto-1 screeched to a halt outside the main building of the NBC studios. The security guard had obviously been told to expect them as he had raised the barrier as soon as he had seen them, allowing them to pass through without stopping.

The four Ghostbusters piled out of the custom ambulance and unloaded their portable proton-packs out of the back, which they strapped onto their backs. These packs incorporated the wand-like guns that they used to ensnare ghosts, like an ionic powered fishing rod, holding them in place until they could be lowered into a trap. The traps were small, shoebox sized containers with black and yellow hazard warning stripes on the twin ‘flaps’ set into the top. A long cable was attached to one end of the box which ended in a pedal which, when stepped on, opened the trap, creating a vaccuum that sucked ectoplasmic entities into the box and contained them within. Each Ghostbuster had a trap clipped to the left-side of their proton-pack, whilst the proton-wand was attached to the right-side.

Once they were all suitably equipped the four Ghostbusters made their way to enter the building.

They were greeted inside by a rotund, bespectacled man who appeared to have been agitatedly waiting for their arrival.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re all here!” he exclaimed as soon as he set eyes upon them, wringing his hands with nervous excitement. “My name is Chris Newman and I’m the Executive Producer of _Professor Wotz_.”

Winston threw Ray a look as if to say “see, what did I tell you” and Ray nodded in reply.

“What appears to be the problem, Mr Newman?” Egon asked as he fiddled with his PKE meter.

The PKE (PsychoKinetic Energy) meter was a hand held device that had two antenna protruding from the top that reacted to the presence of paranormal entities. At the moment the antenna were raised in a V shape and a steady bleeping noise was emitting from the device.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but _Professor Wotz_ is being brought back, after being off-air for the last fifteen years. It was always a very popular show, so when it was cancelled there was an uproar within the fan community, demanding that it be brought back.” Newman explained.

“I think I must’ve written about a dozen letters to NBC at the time!” Ray remembered.

“I might’ve written two dozen!” Winston added.

“Indeed,” Newman nodded, “The campaign to bring back _Professor Wotz_ went on right up until the star, Billy Thornton died two years ago. After that most people gave up on the idea that the show would ever be brought back, but ironically enough, it was only after Thornton’s death that the TV executives became interested in _Professor Wotz_ again.”

“I’d heard that Billy Thornton was notoriously difficult to work with. Maybe that’s why the executives were so against bringing the show back unil _after_ he’d gone.” Egon mused.

Ray, Winston and even Peter stared at their friend as if he’d grown an extra head.

Egon peered at them over the top of his round-rimmed glasses.

“So, I used to like watching _Professor Wotz_ too. Is that so abnormal?” he remarked drily.

“I’m surprised you were able to prise yourself away from your books and test tubes for long enough.” Peter smirked.

“Don’t be silly, Peter. I had a TV in my laboratory!” Egon replied with a raised eyebrow.

“So, with the guy who plays Professor Wotz being no longer with us, how is the company bringing the show back?” Peter wondered, “Have they recast the role, or maybe they’ve got someone younger to play his son? Kinda like a Next Generation deal, huh?”

“You’re not far wrong, Doctor Venkman.” Newman replied, “We have gone for a… er… “Next Generation deal”, as you put it, but not with a son. The new Professor Wotz is going to be a woman.”

“Amazing!” Ray exclaimed with wide-eyed enthusiasm.

“Thank you,” Newman answered, “We thought so too. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there has been a trend of strong female roles in the movies of late; Sigourney Weaver in the _Alien_ films, Brigitte Nielsen in _Red Sonja_. We decided it would be prudent to try and follow this trend on the smaller screen, as it were.”

“And how have the fans taken the news that their childhood hero is being replaced by some broad?” Peter drawled tactlessly. “I mean, come on… can you imagine if the Ghostbusters were four chicks with a male secretary?”

Newman fixed Peter with a withering stare.

“We like to think that the show’s fanbase is a little more enlightened than yourself, Doctor Venkman.”

Winston and Ray nodded vigorously in the background, whilst Egon just said, “Mmm-hmm.” Very loudly.

“The actress we have playing Professor Wotz’s daughter is none other than the extremely talented Georgina Willis. We are very lucky to have her!” Newman went on.

“Wait, _the_ Georgina Willis? Miss November in 1985’s swimsuit calendar? Well, why the heck didn’t you say so!” Peter exclaimed, now just as enthusiastic as Ray had been.

“Miss Willis was picked for her acting ability and not for any of the attributes that you clearly seem to value her for, _Doctor_ Venkman!” Newman riled irritably. “Unfortunately, you are not alone in your _dinosaur_ perspective, Doctor. Which is why you are here.”

“I was wondering when we’d get to that.” Winston remarked.

But then, before Mr Newman could go on to explain further there was a piercing woman’s scream from elsewhere in the studio.

“Oh no, not again!” Newman exclaimed, “Come with me!”

But the Ghostbusters were already running ahead of him, their proton-wands in their hands at the ready, heading to where they’d heard the scream come from.

Peter, taking the lead, kicked open a pair of double doors and charged into what looked like a vast recording studio set that had been made up to look like a futuristic spaceship with shiny metal corridors and complex looking technology. The illusion was shattered by the plethora of cameras and sound equipment that was aligned at strategic points on the set. On their way in the four Ghostbusters were passed by a panicked stampede of cameramen and technicians who were keen to get out.

It didn’t take the Ghostbusters long to see what had scared them away.

The spectral figure of a white haired old man in a black frock coat and checked trousers was floating six feet above the ground, waving an ornately carved walking stick above his head at an attractive blonde woman wearing a long grey hooded coat, jeans and a blue and red striped sweater, who was cowering in one corner of the elaborate set.

“You have no right!” the ghost was shouting angrily, “No right at all!”

“That’s Georgina Willis!” Ray shouted, “We have to get her clear before we can blast that thing!”

“That ‘thing’ is the ghost of Billy Thornton.” Winston exclaimed, “Man, I can’t believe we’re gonna have to bust him!”

The spectral form of Billy Thornton turned in mid-air to look at the four Ghostbusters.

“Have you come to ruin my show too?” he bellowed angrily. Without warning he began to descend upon them, swishing his cane back and forth menacingly.

Behind him, Georgina Willis had taken the chance to get clear of the firing line… leaving the Ghostbusters clear to open up.

“Hose him!” Peter shouted as Thornton drew nearer.

“Wait!” Winston detached himself from the group and flung himself between them and the ghost.

His comrades held their fire and even Thornton checked his charge in astonishment.

“What do you think you’re doing, Winston? If we’d opened up then, you’d have been hit!” Peter yelled.

“We can’t just ‘hose’ Billy Thornton.” Winston protested, “If he’s got some sort of grievance I think that the least we can do is listen to him and hear what he has to say.”

Thornton came to hover beside Winston.

“Very well said, young man.” He rumbled, “It’s nice to see that there are still some people around who can see sense.”

Winston rounded on his childhood hero.

“Start talking, Mr Thornton. You had better have a good reason for why you’re behaving the way you are, because if you don’t my friends and I are gonna have to bust you and you’ll end up in one of those." He pointed to the trap that Ray was dangling helpfully in front of them.

The ghost looked taken aback by Winston’s tone, but quickly composed himself.

“Very well, if you must know, it is this young harlot that I have taken issue with, sir!” and he pointed his cane at Georgina.

“Now hang about, I am not a harlot!” Georgina protested, “I am a serious actress!”

Thornton twisted himself to glare upon Georgina balefully.

“What you are, madam, is a glorified bikini model with ideas above her station… Yes I have seen your calendar! You do not deserve to be Professor Wotz!”

“You can’t judge me for something I did four years ago. I’ve come a long way since then.” Georgina argued.

“So what do you think gives you the right to be the next Professor Wotz, hmm?” Thornton demanded.

“I grew up watching you on TV, like a lot of children did. When the show got cancelled I was devastated because I had lost something that had inspired me to become the woman that I am today. You were a role model, not just to me, but to hundreds of kids who grew up watching _Professor Wotz_. You inspired them. Some of them grew up to be scientists or… Ghostbusters, others like me went into acting. Yes, that’s right, you are the reason I act and you are the reason that I auditioned for this role in the first place. I want to inspire a whole new generation of children, just like you did.” Georgina explained, cutting quite the heroic figure as she did so.

“I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m sold.” Peter drawled as he put up his proton-wand, seemingly forgetting that it was the phantom Thornton’s opinion that counted, not his.

Everyone looked to the ghost to see how he would react to Georgina’s impassioned speech.

Thornton drew himself up to his full height and gripped the lapels of his jacket, his face contorted into a frown… which quickly curved up into a smile.

“My young lady, you have impressed me. I apologise for my earlier behaviour. If you can show, in your performance as Professor Wotz, the same passion and strength that you just displayed to me, then you indeed have my blessing to carry the show in my stead.” He held out an ectoplasmic hand for her to shake, which she took, tactfully ignoring the cold clamminess of his grip. “Good luck!”

“Thank you, Mr Thornton.” Georgina smiled.

“Please, call me Billy.” The ghost insisted.

“You see guys, there was no need for us to bust him after all.” Winston grinned at his team mates.

Thornton turned to the four Ghostbusters.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you fellows?” he asked.

“What is it, Mr Thornton?” Ray wondered.

“When you put me in that thing…” Thornton indicated the trap that Ray still held, “what happens to me afterwards?”

Egon cleared his throat and stepped forward to field the question.

“Well, Mr Thornton, you would be taken back to our headquarters and deposited into our containment unit along with all the other paranormal entities that we have aprehended over the years.”

“And what is it like within this containment unit of yours?” Thornton wondered curiously.

“It’s almost like another dimension, a spiritual domain that all of the captured spirits inhabit, another realm, so to speak.” Egon tried to explain in the simplest terms possible.

“Fascinating.” Thornton remarked, “So, it would be like having an adventure in another world, just like my character used to?”

Ray took up the explanation from here.

“That’s right, Mr Thornton, but not all of the ghosts in there will be as friendly as you are.”

Thornton’s smile grew broader still at this news.

“So, it will be like visiting another world, teeming with monsters?”

“Yes, I suppose you could say that.” Egon concurred.

Thornton rubbed his hands together gleefully.

“Where do I sign up?” he asked enthusiastically.

“You want us to bust you?” Ray raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“Yes,” Thornton answered. “there’s no place for me here anymore and this containment unit of yours sounds like it would be quite the jolly adventure, don’t you think?”

The four Ghostbusters exchanged puzzled glances, but then Ray shrugged.

“Alright, Mr Thornton, is that’s what you want.” And he set his trap down upon the floor. “If you could just stand, erm, I mean hover, over the trap.”

Thornton did as he was instructed. He once again grabbed his lapels.

“I’m ready!”

Ray depressed the pedal of the trap with his fist.

The twin doors of the trap sprang open and a cone of light enveloped Thornton’s spectral form.

Without once ever losing his composure, Thornton allowed himself to be drawn into the portable containment device, the doors snapping shut once he was inside. A whisp of grey smoke drifted from the trap and the light on the front blinked to confirm that he was indeed contained within.

Ray picked up the trap and held it before him almost reverentially.

“Well, that’s that.” He said quietly.

“The end of an era and the start of a new one.” Winston agreed.

“Not quite the end.” Peter remarked drily, “There’s still the matter of our paycheck. I believe Janine said that they promised double the asking price, right?”

He began to look around for Chris Newman, who surprisingly, was nowhere to be found.

 

**The End**


End file.
